The Dark of the Night
by The Dancing Bard
Summary: It's always at night that fear and doubt hold the most power. Ron and Hermione find some comfort from their troubles the summer between 6th and 7th year. AU after HP & the HBP. Sap/Waff/Fluff, etc.


**Warning: **AU after HP and the HBP

The Dark of the Night

Hermione woke with a gasp, her eyes wide as she scanned the shadows. _Nothing_, she thought with relief. _There's nothing there. It's just my mind playing tricks on me_. She sighed and willfully forced her tense muscles to relax one by one. Letting her eyes fall closed, she breathed deeply and listened to the now familiar sounds of her two best friends sleeping nearby. Harry's deep even breaths punctuated by incomprehensible murmurs provided a low counterpoint to Ron's steady snores and the rustle of bed sheets as he changed position. They were soothing sounds, safe, but even as her body came under control again, her mind raced to remind her of the reasons behind their presence - and the reasons for her fear.

After Dumbledore's funeral, Hermione and Ron had made Harry a promise to stay with him until he defeated Lord Voldemort for the final time. They had kept their promise, and now Hermione found herself crammed into the smallest bedroom of Number 4, Privet Drive. The Dursley's had been entirely unamused by the arrival of another wizard and a witch to their home, resulting in the presence of three beds in Harry's already crowded room. _Just one more week,_ Hermione consoled herself. _Just one more week and we can go to Godric's Hollow, and then…Oh, God, then! _Her thoughts faltered as she thought of what they had to do, what Harry had to do. _Kill Voldemort. _An unrelenting voice in the back of her head whispered. _Harry has to kill the most powerful wizard in the world. Dumbledore couldn't stop him. The ministry's powerless. So many have already died, and we'll be next. There won't even be a struggle. Just the blood and the pain, the unending pain…Stop!_

She protested in vain, pulling the blankets over her head as she tried to block out the images her mind supplied. Memories flashed through her mind, of Ron, his face pale with fear and pain as he clutched his broken leg third year, of Harry, battered and broken as he cried over Cedric's body fourth year, and the purple flame that had pierced her heart fifth year. She remembered the past and feared the future. Here in the dark, alone with her fears, she curled in on her pain and gave into despair.

* * *

Ron woke suddenly feeling bewildered. He had heard…something, something not right. He listened for a moment and relaxed at the sound of Harry's steady breathing. _Must have been dreaming, _he thought letting his eyes droop closed. Then his eyes flew open, suddenly wide awake as he heard the sound again. _It sounds almost like…_ Raising himself, he could just see the outline of Hermione's blanket covered form across the room. "Hermione?" He whispered. Instantly, the sobs ceased, but her frame trembled as she fought to cry silently into her pillow.

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to go to her, to somehow make her feel better. But she didn't seem to want his interference, so… Ron lay silently and watched as she slowly grew still once more. When she rose and left he debated with himself only for a few moments before following. Hermione needed help and it was dangerous to be wandering alone at night. There was never any real question of him going back to sleep anyways, not now.

He found her in the small plot of grass that the Dursley's referred to as their garden. The moonlight made the familiar space look alien, each blade of grass clearly outlined in gray blue shadows. He hesitated before joining the girl with the shining hair there in that otherworldly place, but then the girl hugged herself and rubbed her bare arms and the spell was broken. The girl was Hermione again, his friend, and he went to stand with her. He considered offering words of comfort but dismissed each phrase as it formed itself in his mind. Things were not okay, they were not safe, and nothing would be alright for a very long time…if ever. The only thing he could offer was his friendship. And so he stood, gazing up at the night sky, and wordlessly reminded her that she was not alone with his presence.

After an age or minutes she sighed. "Ron, can I ask you a really horrible favor?" It was on the tip of his tongue to reply that it would depend on the favor, but something in her face made him change his answer. "Anything," he replied. She met his gaze for the first time that night, and Ron saw all the fears and pain shining in her eyes like the tears she never let show in the day, only in the dark at night. "Can I not pretend that I'm brave and optimistic with you?" Ron could only stare at Hermione as she continued in an unsteady voice. "It's just…I'm scared. I'm so scared, but Harry needs me to be strong. He can't know or he'll worry and get distracted trying to protect me. You're the only one who can understand…"

At that, her voice trailed away to a whisper and Ron came out of his daze. With a step he crossed the space between them and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Of course I understand," he growled into her hair. "Do you think I'd be away from the Burrow if it wasn't for you and Harry? Bloody hell, Hermione, it's all I can do to keep from shaking when I think about what we're trying to do." He forced himself to loosen his grip slightly then added in a calmer tone, "I'm afraid that it's not very reassuring, but I have to admit that I am worried about you."

"I want to go _home_," she whispered. "But I can't, so I won't. And you don't have to worry about looking out for me. I can protect myself," she said, meeting his eyes with an unwavering if tear-filled gaze.

"Course you can," Ron said, with the ghost of a grin. "But that's what worries me. You're so brave and strong, and you'd do anything to help. I'm just afraid you'll try and take on too much." Hermione opened her mouth as if to argue, but Ron continued regardless. "Let me help, Hermione. I'm strong enough, even if I'm not smart like you or as talented as Harry. Lean on me a little and let me protect your back, just like you've always supported and looked out for me."

* * *

It wasn't poetry that was for sure, Hermione thought with her own attempt at a smile. It was rough and honest and it was Ron so it was enough. No matter what happened, they had each other and somehow they'd make it be enough. Something in her vague musings told her now was the time she had been waiting for and something in the darkness gave her the courage to speak once more. "One more favor, Ron?"

"Another one?" he asked with a slight laugh. "You're just full of demands tonight, aren't you? Well, might as well go for broke. Ask away, milady, and I'll deliver if I may."

Hermione turned her face up towards the dark shadow against the sky where his would be and moved her arms up towards his shoulders. In a very small voice, she asked, "Kiss me?"

She heard his hastily indrawn breath of air and felt the muscles of his body tense underneath her hands. _He's going to say no, _she thought in despair. _He's going to be nice about it and try not to hurt me, but he's going to say no, and I've ruined everything! _She started to pull back then. After all, why prolong the embarrassment for both of them?

But then Ron's arms tightened around her, drawing her back against his chest. "Bloody hell, Hermione, are you daft?" he muttered briefly. Hermione started to say something sharp in reply, but then his lips found hers and no one said much of anything for a very long while. For that moment, they weren't on a quest against evil, they weren't in danger, they were just Ron and Hermione, a boy and a girl, in love, together, in the dark. And it was more than enough – it was bloody brilliant.


End file.
